“No thanks to you.” Whether he’d said that more for himself or to Hank, he didn’t know. He didn’t care. Hank had apologized for what’d happened to his mother, accepted responsibility for Julia’s actions, but that wouldn’t erase two decades’ worth of hatred and anger. Their relationship—if they’d ever have one—would take more than a single conversation to heal, but at least he’d made his opinion on the matter clear.
“You’ve got one hell of a fighter on your hands, son, but if you want to be around much longer, eat the damn waffles. You look like you’re going to fall over,” Hank said.
The fight drained from Beckett as he turned back toward the bed and slid his hand in Raleigh’s, but he could still feel Hank at the door. Fine. Beckett would let him see the damage he’d caused, how he’d almost destroyed the only family Beckett had left. He smoothed his thumb over her scabbed knuckles, and Raleigh’s hand jerked in his. The hollowness under his rib cage intensified as his gaze shot to her face. “Raleigh?”
She squeezed her eyes shut, then opened them slowly. Hypnotic green eyes lifted to his, and relief flooded through him. Her chest collapsed on a strong exhalation as she shook her head. She licked dry lips, and he reached for the plastic mug provided by the hospital at the side of her bed. He set the straw against her mouth for her to take a drink, but her voice still graveled from the grogginess of being out cold for three days. “Beckett.”
“I’m here. It’s okay.” Beckett kept her hand in his as he took his seat in the chair beside the bed. “You were shot. Three days ago at the ranch. You were Life-Flighted here to the hospital in Portland where the surgeons were able to remove the bullet, but it took you a while to shake off the anesthesia.”
“The baby.” Panic infused her expression as she slid her free hand over her stomach above the sheets. Tears welled in her lower lash line, and she strengthened her grip on his hand. Raleigh fought to sit up straight, but the pain in her expression said her wound wouldn’t let her get far. “Please tell me she’s okay. Tell me the bullet didn’t hurt—”
“She’s fine.” He brought her hand against his mouth, planting a kiss on the thin skin below her knuckles as he helped her settle back against the pillow. “Everything is fine. Julia Dailey was arrested, the charges against you were dropped, all of the missing donation funds have been returned to the foundation, and our daughter is exactly where she’s supposed to be.”
“Okay.” She nodded, the distant haze in her eyes revealing she was still trying to get her bearings. After everything she’d been through, he wouldn’t be surprised if it’d take her more than a few minutes to adjust. Hell, might even take months, and he intended to help her through it every step of the way. “I remember the gunshot, the blood on my shirt and that I couldn’t see you after I fell. I thought I’d lost you both.”
“You didn’t lose anything. I’m here, she’s here, and we’re not going anywhere. It’s over.” Beckett worked small circles into the space between her index finger and thumb. His chest tightened at the fear still swirling in her gaze, and he repositioned her hand over his heart. He focused on the light blue veins running along the length of her arm. “Everything that happened was because of me. Julia wouldn’t have gotten her hands on you in the first place if I hadn’t let my own anger get in the way of seeing the truth, but when I saw who Calvin Dailey really was, that my father was part of this, I lost it, Raleigh.”
Heat seared along his nerve endings at the memory, at the pain he’d put her through after he’d given his word to always be there for her. This woman had reached straight into his chest and claimed his heart, and he’d had no idea what he was supposed to do with that. Until now. “I couldn’t see straight. I was fitting evidence into the puzzle that had nothing to do with the case, and I was scared. I’ve been disconnected for so damn long—living in the past—that I’d convinced myself I’d spend the rest of my days walking this earth alone, but then you came along. You kept me grounded even when I thought we wouldn’t make it. You gave me purpose, and I was scared of losing that, of losing you and our baby. So I found a reason to make you the enemy to avoid having to feel that pain ever again. I was stupid for considering you’d been involved with Hank’s next con, and I’m sorry. I’m sorry for breaking my word to always be there for you when you deserved so much better. I can’t promise I won’t be an idiot in the future, but I sure as hell won’t ever doubt you again. If you’ll just give me the chance to prove it.”
She tugged her hand from his and set it over her slight baby bump. The muscles in her throat worked to swallow. She kept her expression neutral as she raised her gaze to his. The answer was so clear in those beautiful green eyes, the pain he’d caused evident, and his gut soured. “I don’t know if that’s possible anymore. I haven’t felt important to anyone my whole life, Beckett. Everyone I’ve let get close has walked away once I didn’t serve a purpose for them anymore, but when we were in that cabin, you made me feel like I could’ve been important. That you saw me just for me and not something to be used.” She tilted her head to one side, tears sliding down her cheeks. “I was falling in love with you, dreaming about waking up next to you every morning on that ranch the marshals seized, taking family trips into town, teaching our daughter how to ride her first horse. It felt so real. I wanted it to be real.” Her voice hollowed. “But I realized it’d been a fantasy. All of it. Because until you recognize you have people who want to be there for you—that you’re the one who’s been pushing them away—there isn’t going to be room in your life for me or for our daughter.”
His throat threatened to swell shut. “What are...what are you saying?”
“I’m saying we’re always going to be connected because of this baby. There’s no denying that,” she said, “but I’m going to let the lawyers handle everything from here.”
* * *
SHE SHOULDN’T BE HERE.
Raleigh stepped out of the old four-door sedan she’d purchased a few days after being released from the hospital. Her car, her apartment, her belongings, it’d all been taken by the state once she’d been arrested, but that was behind her now. It was time to start over, fresh, but she hadn’t planned on ever coming back here.
Her past had been burned clean, and she was going to take advantage. If it hadn’t been at Beckett’s insistence they meet here to review the paternity and custody papers before their lawyers submitted them to the courts, she never would’ve driven out here. She’d made it clear in the hospital she’d hand off any legal matters concerning their daughter to her lawyer, negating any reason for them to have to see each other until the baby was born, but he’d sounded desperate over the phone. Broken.
She couldn’t deny she was hurting just as badly at what’d happened between them.
She breathed in the slight hint of pines and hay for a few moments. Yellowing grass swayed in the breeze as she followed the dirt road leading to the main farmhouse. The seized property looked the same as it had a few weeks ago—when Emily Cline had caught up with them—but where fear had controlled her then, beauty met her now. She burrowed into her coat as the large barn at the edge of the property demanded her attention before she stepped onto the house’s pale front porch. She lifted her hand to knock before the door swung inward.
And there he was.
A tingling sensation bubbled inside her as his gaze studied her from head to toe. His beard seemed thicker, the lines around his eyes and mouth a little deeper as though he hadn’t slept in a while, and her heart hiccuped in her chest. It’d been only two weeks since she’d woken to find him next to her hospital bed, but so much had changed since then. Those brilliant blue eyes brightened, and she fought the rush of need she’d been working to bury as it seeped through the cracks in her shattered armor. He was handsome as ever with the white long-sleeved shirt, jeans, boots and no visible signs of his blood or anyone else’s staining his clothes, and it took her a few breaths to remember why she was here.
“I didn’t think you’d come out here.”
“You wanted me to double-check the paperwork before we go to court.” Raleigh folded her arms across her chest. The siding beside the door smelled of fresh paint the longer she stood there, but there was no reason the US Marshals would be fixing the place up unless they were getting it ready for public auction. A strange heaviness settled in her gut at the thought. For the past few weeks she’d been staying in a hotel room while the FBI concluded their investigation, but soon she’d have to find a more permanent place. She and Beckett had almost been killed right near here, but that didn’t detract from the sense of peace—of home—she’d experienced before the gunwoman had fired that first bullet. “If we’re going to make this coparenting thing work, we’re each going to have to make an effort. This is mine.”
“I appreciate it.” He shifted back on his heels, motioning her through the door. “Come in.”
She stepped over the threshold, that immediate feeling of calm washing over her. Warmth flooded over the exposed skin of her neck and hands from the fireplace as she took in the wall of windows and pale gray-and-white decor. Everything looked the same, felt the same. Only they weren’t. Not with Beckett.
He’d taken responsibility for his mistake in accusing her of conspiracy, in arresting her mere hours after promising to always be there. His admission of letting the anger he’d held on to all these years get in the way of his judgment still echoed in her head when she lay alone at night. He’d asked for another chance, and she’d been so tempted to give it, to forget he’d turned his back on her all over again. But she couldn’t.
Because what would stop him from turning his back on her the next time? What would stop him from leaving her as an only parent when all that anger clouded his judgment again?
In that moment, Raleigh had imagined having to explain to their baby girl why her father had disappeared. She’d seen the disappointment in her daughter’s eyes so clearly, experienced that feeling of being unwanted by the man she’d look up to, heard their child convincing herself she wasn’t worth loving. That single image had broken what was left of Raleigh’s heart in a matter of seconds, but she had the power to make sure it never became reality. By coparenting with Beckett as agreed, but nothing more. No commitment. No emotions. Nothing that he could use to hurt her or their daughter down the line.
Closing the door behind her, Beckett moved ahead of her deeper into the house. His boots echoed off the dark hardwood flooring, each step a physical and invisible wedge between them. “I’ve got the documents in the kitchen and some snacks if you need. I know it’s a long drive, and I’m guessing you probably didn’t think to pack anything to eat before you left.”
“I didn’t.” She followed him into the kitchen and ran her fingers across the cold white granite of the kitchen island as he rounded behind it. A stack of documents and pens had been positioned on one side, along with a couple of bottled waters and an assortment of fresh fruit. The weight of his attention constricted the air in her lungs. She reached for the papers. “You could’ve emailed me the documents. We didn’t have to meet all the way out here.”
“The papers aren’t the only thing I wanted to have you look over.” Beckett came around the island, every muscle across his chest and along his shoulders flexing and releasing with each step, and her skin prickled with his proximity. A combination of pine and hard work dived into her lungs as he slid something across the granite. The scrape of metal jarred her back from the edge of leaning into him.
Keys? Raleigh pinched the metal ring between her index finger and thumb, studying them as though she’d be able to recognize them at a glance. “What are these for?”
“This place.” Beckett pressed his palms onto the stone as he leveled that blue gaze on her. “It’s yours.”
What? Her throat got tight. “I’m sorry. I think my brain left my body there for a second. Can you repeat that?”
“In the hospital you told me you’d imagined waking up here every day, of teaching our daughter to ride, that it’d all felt real when you were here. So I bought the property back from the Marshals Service before it could go to public auction, and I’m giving it to you. These papers aren’t for custody of our daughter. They’re to sign the deed to this place over to you.” He stepped into her, unbearably close, which forced her to look up at him, and she suddenly didn’t have the mind to confirm what the papers said.
She only had attention for him. For all that dark hair she’d run her fingers through a dozen times, for the strong tendons between his neck and shoulders she’d held on to when they’d been on the run for their lives, for the softness of his mouth when he’d kissed her. She planted her hand against his chest, her head urging her to push him away, to regain her composure, but the familiar beat of his heart under her palm reverberated through her.
He’d bought her the ranch?
“I know why you wanted the lawyers involved, and you had every reason to get as far from me as you could these past couple of weeks. Seeing how this anger I’ve carried around has hurt you and any chance I have at being a father to that baby girl brought me to the lowest point of my life.” He lowered his gaze to her hands as he took them both in his. “I’ve been hanging on to it as a crutch for so long, I wasn’t sure I could get by if I had to let it go, but you leaving made me realize I wanted you more than I wanted to hate Hank. I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to forgive him for what he’s done, but I’m willing to try. For you. For our baby.”
He smoothed calming circles into the backs of her hands, and she was overtaken by need. By the feeling of complete and utter destruction she’d been trying to ignore since she’d been discharged from the hospital. “I can’t take another second being apart from you. I can’t live the rest of my life handing off our daughter at neutral locations or only seeing you for a few minutes at a time every couple of weeks. I can’t pretend I’m okay with the thought of you finding someone else or being with anyone other than me. I can’t. I’m in love with you, Raleigh, and I want to work to make you and our daughter happy for the rest of our lives. And that means I’m not going anywhere. Ever.”
He released her and dropped to one knee.
“What are you doing?” She slid her hand over her stomach, waiting for reassurance as she’d done a hundred times over the past few months, but she couldn’t think straight. Couldn’t breathe. He’d bought her a ranch to show he loved her. She’d gotten so used to people walking away over the years, to pretending their actions hadn’t hurt, but the truth was Beckett had cut deeper than them all. He’d cut through her sense of worthlessness, her feeling of being unwanted by everyone around her, cut through the numbness she was comfortable living with the rest of her life. Where others had left her empty and exhausted, he’d made her whole and given her a gift no one else had ever before: hope for the future.
“Raleigh Wilde, I love you.” Beckett pulled a small black box from his front pocket and flipped it open. In the center of lush cream silk was a simple solitaire embedded in a thick band, and the connection she’d relied on during those terrifying few days of their secret investigation flooded through her. “Will you marry me?”
“Yes.” She fell into him and wrapped her arms around his neck as she straddled him right there in the middle of the kitchen floor. Her kitchen floor. He held on to her, and everything she’d ever wanted came within reach. A stable home, a partner who had her back, a family. It was all hers. Raleigh slid her mouth over his, her heart threatening to beat straight out of her chest. “I love you, too, but the next time you feel the need to arrest me, you better be ready for the fight of your life.”
Beckett wrapped her in the circle of his arms. “The next time I feel the need to arrest you, I promise to give you a head start.”
* * *
Keep reading for an excerpt from Dead Man District by Julie Miller.
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Dead Man District
by Julie Miller
Chapter One
Smoke.
Kansas City firefighter Matt Taylor held the handles of the resistance weights in front of him, feeling the pull along his massive arms and broad chest. He turned his nose toward the doorway of the spare bedroom, where he worked out when he wasn’t on duty at the fire station, and sniffed the air.
Definitely smoke.
Slowly, deliberately, he eased the cables back through the pulley system and let the weight drop down to the stack. He grabbed the towel off the floor beside him and wiped the sweat from his face and neck, then swiped it over the top of his dark, military-short hair before rising from the machine’s bench. He was a lieutenant at Firehouse 13 now, and his years of training and natural low-key demeanor kept him from panicking as he stalked through his apartment and checked the usual suspect spots. Kitchen clean and clear. Furnace running efficiently despite it being two degrees and snowing outside. Even though he emptied it out faithfully, he opened the closet where the washer and dryer were stacked and checked to make sure there was no lint in the dryer vent.
The Fugitive Page 18